


cough syrup.

by xkoy



Category: South Park
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Drug Use, Everyone is a Senior, Everyone is in this, Goth Stan Marsh, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jersey Kyle Broflovski, M/M, Multi, Other, a lot of south park characters ngl, about to go to college, lot of shit happens lmao, seniors, this is one hell of a ride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2019-10-18 17:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17585522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xkoy/pseuds/xkoy
Summary: Four boys, senior year, one crazy story.Aka the time Kyle Brovfloski moved to the wrong place at the right time.





	1. stan.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so a lot to explain.
> 
> I made this story a year or two ago during my junior year of high school because I was a scared tired senior who just wanted to write out my thoughts, and at the time I was back in the SP fandom lol. I still kind of am, but don't be expecting an update anytime soon cause I'm too lazy to write down more
> 
> unless I get a ton of comments saying I need to continue then maybe ;)
> 
> Thank you for reading anyway lol enjoy

It was senior year.

 

A lot of his peers were ecstatic over the upcoming school year. It was a time where they were upperclassmen, respected by students and teachers alike, and they were all finally able to get out of this hell hole and on with their lives.

 

Except for Stan Marsh. 

 

The smell of burning nicotine hung in the outside air, a long quiet inhale of a cigarette was audible. His brain was rambling, the thoughts of his final days in school somewhere within the process.  _ Life is pain, like laying in the darkness with no answers, yet the blinding light is just as bad as being in the dark.  _ It was a quote from a poem Michael wrote last night. He was part of what other kids called the Goths, which didn’t do wonders for his reputation, but then again why would he care about how he looked to other people.  _ Why would I want to be part of the conformists and live a nine to five job to earn an average salary and come back home to my barbie wife and two children who will eventually follow in my footsteps? It’s just an endless cycle of despair. _

 

He exhaled, hoping it would bring some relief to his mind, but to no avail. He didn’t really like cigarettes in the first place, the only reason why he started smoking was because Henrietta wouldn’t stop whining about how he wasn’t a true goth for not being a nicotine addict.  _ Even if you’ve hung out with us for four years, that still doesn’t mean you’re not part of us until you start smoking.  _

 

He didn’t even know why he hung out with Michael’s group. It’s not like he doesn’t have anywhere to go (okay, maybe doesn’t have anywhere. He was kicked out of his parents house at the beginning of high school because of his alcohol addiction, which by the way, he got from his dad) The only places he crashed at was Michael’s grungy apartment, Butter’s house, or Kenny’s apartment way out in the city part of town. The seedy part of town. If he had to choose where to room, Butter’s would be the first option, but that kid’s parents are batshit crazy that put their son through psychological abuse. All he had right now was the Goth group. Until he could get his own apartment and start life anew again.

 

Living in this fucked up town called South Park was a nightmare. Sure, it had its ups and downs, but that was before he realized he had depression. Before Wendy left him because she gave up on him with his way of looking at life. Before he realized he was completely alone when he was out on the streets. The TV shows and movies made being rogue seem glamorous, but in reality, it’s downright soul crushing. 

 

Stan only wished something would change. If he had one wish for this school year, it was that something good would come his way and he could see life in a different light. Despite what Michael, Peter, Henri, or Firkle say, there was beauty to life and happiness. He just had to find it again.

 

“Stan?”

 

Stan tuned out of his thoughts, turning his head to the side to see Butters standing out of the shady area he was in. Butters blue (well one was blue, the other was grey due to an accident he accidentally gave to the poor guy when they were kids) eyes read two emotions: one was excitement, the other worry. Stan blinked, looked at the cigarette, and put it out with his shoe.

 

“Hey buddy, I was wondering where you were! I just wanted to find you cause we have homeroom together!” Butters said cheerfully, a smile growing on his face as he walked towards Stan. He ignored the small cheer that sparked for a second, keeping a bored face for his facade. He was glad that at least he knew someone in the class, the past two years all he got were a bunch of ignoring stares and whispers behind his back. That was for every class but needless to say, it was annoying not knowing anyone from your childhood being in the same room as you.

 

“Great.” was all he could mutter as Butters pulled his arm and dragged him out of the shade into the bright sunlight. It made him squint his eyes for a moment but he felt himself continue to walk to the front of the school.

 

“It sure is neato! We haven’t had a class since, what, freshman year? I missed having ya in my classes, it was sure hard to become friends with people I was never close to during elementary days!”

 

“Tell me about it.”

 

“How was your summer by the way?” A blue and grey eye sparkled with curiosity, something Stan lost.

 

“Okay.” Boring for the most part. Most days, he was drunk and off around town acting a fool for no reason. Other days, it was being with the Goth kids, a once in a run in with Kenny or Craig, and working his job as a cashier for his Uncle Jimbo’s shop. All of the time, it was being alone with his thoughts only. “What about you?”   
  


“Oh, it was swell! I was usually, you know, helping my mom and dad around the house, but we got to go to Hawaii again to meet my family! I tried to invite Kenny like old times but he was too busy with his job so we couldn’t go together-”

 

“How is Kenny?” the question was a thought that wasn’t supposed to come out. He immediately drew back, building a wall around himself.

 

“Oh, Kenny is doing fine! I know you and Kenny were best buddies way back in the day. He’s mentioned you at least once every time I run into him. He’s been super busy with his job- I mean jobs my bad- working at Mr. Liu or being an auto mechanic or whatever else he has at the moment. Karen lives with him now, she’s doing well!”

 

Butters continued to talk about how Kenny was, even as they walked down the halls of the school. Stan ignored the surroundings of everyone talking happily, some looking nervous. It was easy to sort out who were the freshman and who were the seniors. He could finally say that he walked down the hallway without a care in the world, especially with someone right next to him.

 

After a flight of stairs and some more walking, Stan realized they stopped in front of a door. He blinked, his hearing slowly tuning in back into real life conversation. “But Kenny’s in our class too, so you can ask him yourself how he’s been doing. Hey, maybe you guys could hang out again!”

 

His brain took that into processing and it only clicked when he entered the classroom. He took his arm back from Butter’s hand, the invisible wall continuing to grow and grow. 

 

The class was surprisingly filled with every single person from his fourth grade class, otherwise was known as the best class of their educated lives. He spotted Craig and those guys, all talking together again. He knew they often hung out outside of school, unlike with his old group who suddenly became too busy or insane to be around. He saw Craig and Tweek- that seemed to be his name- holding hands, a genuine look of happiness on their faces. Stan looked away before he could feel any envy.

 

Looking ahead was his ex girlfriend Wendy and her die hard cheerleader friends. Bebe’s giggles could be heard clearly as the rest of the girls sat and paid no one else any mind. She hasn’t seemed to spot him yet-

 

“Stan!” A flash of orange entered his peripheral vision and he felt his eyes widen ever so slightly. Kenny McCormick, his long time best childhood “friend” still had the same shit eating grin that became his iconic signature look. He noticed Ken had new piercings on his ears and eyebrow; he looked pretty tuff. The guy also got taller, pretty much as tall as Stan but taller than Butters. Raggedy blue jeans with beaten sneakers, an fitted orange hoodie and brown scarf, what didn’t go unnoticed by Stan was Kenny’s hands, which were covered by bandages.

 

“Hey dude.” Stan smiled ever so slightly, the two high fiving and fist bumping. Kenny didn’t seem hurt by the action, maybe it was just part of his outfit. Poser.

 

“How you been, man? We finally have a class together and the best part is that we’re seniors!” Kenny exclaimed, bouncing on the heels of his feet. 

 

“It’s also with everyone from Fourth Grade.” Stan muttered, now noting that people were staring at them, specifically him. He saw Wendy’s face, who was staring with slight shock and interest. “I’m okay, how you’ve been?” Stan decided to continue the small talk.

 

“Feeling good sweet cheeks, especially since I’m almost out of this hell hole.” Kenny said as he walked towards a desk, motioning for Butters and Stan to follow. He plopped on a desk and stretched. “Work has been killing me recently.”

 

“Literally or figuratively?” Butters asked curiously

 

“Would you laugh if I said literally?” Kenny answered and Butters giggled. There was a look in Kenny’s eyes, a dark gleam-

 

“Alright class, take your seats” all ears perked at the sound of the voice. Never in a million years did they think they’d hear-

 

“Mr. Garrison?” they all chimes in unison, looking at the teacher in absolute shock. He looked like he didn’t age at all: he still had a bald head of grey hair, wrinkles from the glasses, and wore that hideous green colored sweater vest and colored pants. He looked a little smug, like always, and bowed before the class.

 

“Ah, yes see I am back! I know I was your fourth grade teacher, then I became a woman, then I became a male again, then I decided to run for president cause why the hell not? Well, people learned to eventually hate me over the years of political campaigning, and after being thrown out by the new President who overtook my four years of running for office, I decided to become a teacher again. Happy to see me?”

 

The whole class just sat there, some jaw slacked, others with a look of confusion on their face. One of those people was Stan, who turned to look at Kenny with the same expression.

 

“So yes, good morning children! I can see you all got taller and...older and….yeah” he droned off as he looked around the room. “Well I’d say, I knew some of you were going to be bombshells, but godamm, someone call the fire department cause everyone is on fire!”

 

A few chuckles were the response, but noneoftheless, the awkwardness grew thicker. Mr. Garrison cleared his throat and picked up a clipboard. “Alright roll call! Token!”

 

“Here.”

 

“Ohh, got a little growl in that voice now. Clyde.”

 

“Here.”

 

“Alright Alright. Eric.”

 

“Here.” Stan turned around to see Cartman sitting behind them, a bag of potato chips on the desk and a greasy hand in the mouth crunching away. How Stan didn’t see Cartman was beyond him, the manipulative fatass always seemed to be behind them. Stan and Kenny weren’t friends with Cartman anymore, they stopped some point in middle school. No one was friends with Cartman to be honest, except for poor Butters who was friends with everyone. When Stan hit rock bottom, physically and mentally, and was out in the streets, he went to Cartman for help, and the fat asshole laughed in his face and slammed the door on him. Since then, he ignored everything this piece of shit has said or done.

 

“Nice to see you haven’t changed. Stanley.”

 

“Here.”

 

“Wow, Stan you’ve had a complete 180 turn. Still looking fine as hell though. Kenny.”

 

Stan could feel his cheeks burn at that comment. He looked down at the desk and refused to look up for the rest of the class period.

 

———

 

The first day of school went by in a blur. Stan didn’t pay attention to the four classes he had but now he had two open periods and was free to leave whenever he wanted.

 

Unfortunately, that usually meant he was alone in town with no place to go. With no one to be with, at least with people who didn’t share the same schedule he did.

 

Stan sighed as he walked out of the school backdoors and found the ladder to the school rooftop. After a short climb up, he walked across the roof to the front view of the school. He sat down, lit a cigarette, inhaled, and exhaled.

 

He looked at the scenery in front of him. The sky was a light lilac, the sun nowhere to be seen but hiding behind the clouds, giving it a hidden golden glow from behind. The warmth from the sun was present on his face, but the small breeze from the nearby mountains kept him cool. The town looked pretty big for being small: he could see the people bustling about in the new district area, other people driving, some stopping to chat about their lives. He could see his old neighborhood from here, including the junk yard area he used to go to to light fires. The farm was in the distance; and if he looked close enough, he could see the downtown area. The fact that this town was so full of life, it seemed so normal, when in reality it wasn’t. It wasn’t to him.

 

Stan grimaced at the taste of nicotine, his face scrunched up as he took the stick out of his mouth and spat out the contents. He looked at the cig with absolute distaste before flicking it off the roof. If the school security catches it, then whatever. He doesn’t give a damn.

 

He decided he’ll just crash on the roof tonight. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with the Goth kids or anyone for that matter.

 

He put his arms behind his head and laid back. The clouds were slowly moving and he felt his stomach sink at the thoughts plaguing his mind. 

 

It was just senior year. What could happen?


	2. if

cough syrup. ch 2

Dropping.

That’s how he would describe his heart beat.

It takes enough effort to get off the airplane seat and walk completely down the tight aisles without tripping over yourself. Try doing it while sobering up from a 2 hour Xanax window trip. It’s always the low that felt the worst.

Kyle sat in his seat, perched perfectly next to the window as he looked out at the terminals. On the outside, he knew how he looked: gel styled slightly messy hot red hair with a strong composure that read dignity and a do-not-fuck-with-me demeanor. His forest green eyes stared out into the random workers driving into the field and retrieving the luggage from the airplane. To others, he looked straight from New Jersey, and you’re damn straight he’d be proud to announce that.

In reality, he felt like shit. 

He felt all the adjectives to describe his state throw up out of his brain and onto the window seat. It was as if the colors in the airplane became staler, paler, dull. The white lights lost its richness, the crisp suffocating air of the air conditioners were chilling to the bone.

Kyle slowly breathed in and out. If his mom caught him in this state again, she would definitely kick his ass. Luckily, she wasn’t fucking here, she was too busy running New Jersey to its riches. 

As the crowd shuffled out of the plane, he slowly got up and retrieved his carry on. He ignored the static that perceived his vision as he grudgingly exited.

“Welcome to Colorado, I hope you have a great time!” The stewardess said and he attempted to return a polite smile. As he exited the hangar, he beelined straight to the bathroom.

He reached into his carry on and quickly pulled out his ‘medication.’ 25 mg of Adderall; and no, he wasn’t an ADHD kid. But taking these would help get him energized and focused again for the rest of the day. 

He popped two pills into his mouth, sipped the water, and smacked his face a couple times before shaking his body. He looked at himself in the mirror and smirked.

“Alright Kyle. Time to show this quiet redneck mountain town what you’re made of.”

A vibration buzzed in his True Religion jeans. Kyle took his phone out and looked at the contact. Of course, it was his mom. He fought the urge to roll his eyes back because he knew his mom worried. I mean, she had a reason to worry. He answered call-

“Hi ma.”

“Bubbleh, you answered! Did you make it to South Park yet? How was the plane ride? Was anyone rude? Have you made it to the apartment yet? Don’t tell me-“

“Ma, ma!” Kyle pinched his nose bridge and exited the bathroom. “The plane ride was fine, we had a slight delay but I’m here in Denver airport now. Im waiting for an uber to pick me up.”

“Oh Kyle, I ordered you an uber already, he should be outside the airport right now. Your father and I, we were worried sick! Ike wouldn’t stop taking about you to his 8th grade class apparently and how you were moving to a new place. He’s proud you’re being independent and stuff.”

Hearing that did warm his heart a little. Or maybe it was the medication kicking in. Either way, he would miss his little brother more than anyone in that city. “Tell Ike I’ll call him soon and to keep his nose out of other people’s business. I’m almost at the exit so I’ll have to hang up soon.”

“What’s the hurry? ....you didn’t take adderall again, did you?” His mother’s cheery tone dropped and he instantly felt his heart freeze.

“Ma! No!”

“Kyle Matthew, I swear to god, if you’re planning on pulling the shit you did here in that town-“

“Ma, I haven’t taken anything, I’m fucking clean!”

“Do you know how it feels to be a mother? To be a parent? To find your son overdosed in his room from vicodin from a member of your group?! Do you know what happened to that fucking muffcabbage after you went to the E.R and rehab?!”

Kyle winced at the growing hysterics on the phone. He glanced around to see if others were looking because his mom’s voice is that loud.

“Ma, I’m a changed person. I haven’t taken anything and I don’t plan to die in some stupid mountain town from drugs. I just want a change of perspective. I want to realize who I am, what I can do.” Kyle began to ramble on and on from his mind about what he’s repeated before: change and shit and yadayada. It was nothing new. But his mom ate that shit up like it was a 50% off spray tan.

He was already outside the airport and spotted his uber as soon as he was done with his speech. He greeted the uber, put his luggage in the trunk and hopped in for a brief moment before going back on the phone. “Hey ma, I’m in the uber. I gotta go-“

The sound of sniffling can be heard on the other side of the screen. Kyle froze. The guilt begin to pile up.

“Ma? Please don’t cry.”

“Oh god, Kyle.” She sobbed. The sound of tissues being ripped out was adamant. “I just- I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t survive. Honey, you have to understand.”

“I do understand.” Kyle responded quietly. He listened to her collect herself and she quickly added.

“Do you? Do you really? I’m not joking Kyle, if I get a call one day that you’re in the hospital, high out of your brains-“

“Yes, yes I do. I get it.”

Both lines went silent, almost like a standoff. If they were there in person, they would be glaring at each other until Kyle cowered and gave up. Thank god the phone was easier.

It went on for 5 long minutes. Until he heard a sigh.

“Ok. I hope you know how much trust I’m putting in you again.”

Kyle didn’t have the voice to respond except for mhm.

“Alright, I’ll let you get to your apartment. Text me when you get there. I love you, Bubbeleh.”

“I love you too, mom.” Kyle said and the line beeped in his ear. He sighed with relief and leaned back in his seat, looking at the roof. Total freedom, god damn did it feel great.

He looked out the window, surprised at the South Park sign greeting his vision. “Oh wow, we’re already here?”

“We sure are! Where are you from?” His uber asked, looking in the rear view mirror.

Usually, Kyle would grimace at stuff like this. But the medication was in full swing. He smirked his signature smirk and began to tell his tale.

A new place, huh? Senior year was going to be hella interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello
> 
> I haven’t updated in months but I found some inspo to write for this story again and we’re in for a wild ride ;) 
> 
> Yes this is Jersey Kyle yayyaayaya


End file.
